


Not Your Finest Hour

by VitaLupum



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaLupum/pseuds/VitaLupum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim W. wants to apologise for his behaviour in #59. At least, half of him does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Finest Hour

             Tim put his head in his hands.

             _Not your finest hour_ , his masked other half snarked.  _Punching the man you love in the stomach and then shouting at him to get out of your life_.

            “Shut up,” he hissed, and jumped up from his sofa, already wishing he had never listened to Masky’s suggestion to Google Jay. He had food in the cupboards; he was relatively sure he could find enough so that the inner voice would be too full of cake to care.

             _Did you mean to do that? Or were you trying to sweep him off his feet and you **missed**? _ Masky sneered, and Tim let out a growl. Sharing your head with someone else wasn’t exactly fun. Sharing it with a douchebag was actually practice for Hell.

            “And what would you care?” he snapped, finding a can of Coke. He pulled the tab, and took a gulp, and shuddered as the fizz hurt his nose. “Ugh.”

             _What do I care?_  Masky snorted.  _Tim, in case you didn’t notice, I am stuck in your body. What you do is deeply involved in what I do, and vice versa. When you’re happy – wait, let me pick an emotion you can **feel**_. Tim shook his head.  _When you’re angry, I’m angry. When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re in love, I’m irritatingly also involved in this temporary weakness of the brain._   _So, when you fail with Jay, I also technically fail with Jay._  There was a sigh.  _Damn you, Tim._

            “I could still find him,” Tim mumbled. He could. Jay had posted two updates since their confrontation in a parking lot, and he was relatively sure he knew where he was.

             _He’s moved. You don’t check his Twitter, do you?_  Masky asked amusedly.  _I do._

            “So where is he?” Tim asked, feeling alarm rise inside him. If he knew where Jay was, if he got into trouble he could easily go and rescue him. If he didn’t…

             _It’s okay,_  Masky said sounding serious for once.  _Seriously, you don’t think I’d just let our ‘amour’ wander off without at least a goodnight kiss. I’ve drawn his location on the map, it’s that big red cross you asked about._

            “Why didn’t you tell me what it was?!” Tim snapped.

             _You’d thrown out all the biscuits and I wasn’t feeling cooperative_ , Masky said smugly.

* * *

            Tim sat in his car, head against the steering wheel.

            “He might be asleep,” he tried, and felt that bizarre pull as Masky tried to wrest control of his body. “Hey!”

             _Don’t you dare chicken out,_  Masky threatened.  _I’ll make you streak down the main road. I’ll make you jump off of a bridge. I’ll get your leg broken again. If you don’t go in there, I will_.

            “You can’t  _speak_ ,” Tim said disbelievingly, and Masky shrugged, using Tim’s shoulders to show how easily he could take over his body.

             _I could be very persuasive without using my mouth… to speak,_  he purred, and Tim actually tried to slap himself. It worked, very painfully, but with all of the pain going to Tim.

            “Ow,” he mumbled, and Masky smirked.

             _Are we going in, then?_

* * *

            Jay had never been more surprised when Tim turned up at his door, wearing a sheepish expression and a large red mark on his cheek.

            “Uh, Jay?” he said, and Jay nodded. “Can I, uh, come in?”

            “Sure thing,” Jay said, standing aside, and Tim walked into the room, waiting for Masky to do or say something stupid. However, his other half stayed quiet, allowing the silence to become increasingly awkward until Jay, who had shut the door and was now standing next to it, arms folded, spoke.

            “Well?” he asked.

            “I… I wanted to say sorry,” Tim said, stiltedly. Masky groaned in exasperation. “I didn’t mean to punch you in the stomach.”

            “Were you aiming for the face?” Jay asked flatly, and Masky clapped his metaphorical hands in glee.

             _He’s sarcastic too!_  he squeaked.

            “That’s not what I meant,” Tim muttered. “I got angry. You’ve seen my med files… you’ve read them out to the internet,” he reminded Jay, tone more clipped. “You know I have reasons to be pissed off.”

            “How did you find me?” Jay asked, and moved past Tim to sit on the bed. He made a jerked motion with his hand, the unfriendliest ‘take a seat’ gesture ever  _not_  performed by Chris Hansen, and Tim sat down as well.

            “Sharing your headspace with a guy who can climb up walls and likes to stalk people has its advantages. When he wants to talk,” he mumbled, and Masky narrowed his eyes.

             _Hey_.

            “So you can talk between your personalities?” Jay asked, and Tim nodded. “Well… that’s useful.”

            “Not really. He doesn’t like telling me things,” Tim admitted. “He’s pretty sarcastic most of the time.”

            “So you really came here to apologise?” Jay asked, changing the tack of the conversation again, and Tim nodded. “Why? Why not leave? Get on with your own life? Do the whole ‘two separate cars’ thing?”

            “Because,” Tim said, and his mouth opened wide, no answers forthcoming. There were plenty in his mind –  _because I’ve loved you since Brian introduced us_ ;  _because you look really kind of hot in that cap_ ;  _because hey, did you know your eyes are the same green as the motel curtains in this cheap, crappy lighting_? – but if any of them left his mouth, he would actually kill himself, so he just shook his head.

             _What?!_  Masky yelped.  _Pardon me for quoting a video game, but assuming direct control_.

            “No-no-no,” Tim said, or at least he tried to, but Masky had taken over, and he was forced to watch as his hands seized either side of Jay’s face and pulled him into a kiss worthy of any rom-com finale.

            “Wha-wha-wha…” Jay stuttered as Tim pulled back, and Masky, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, relinquished control.

            “Oh god, I’m sorry, I swear that wasn’t me,” Tim stuttered, and then Jay was on top of him, lips pressed tightly to his, pushing him back against the bed.

* * *

            As Tim lay there, arms curled protectively around Jay as the smaller man slept, Masky opened one eye and grinned.

             _You see?_  he yawned.  _You need to trust me more, Timothy_.

            “Next time, I’m calling the shots,” Tim reminded him, quietly, so as not to wake Jay, and Masky grinned.

             _Next time,_  he laughed, and then all three slept.


End file.
